– I’m so angry.
– Talk to me. Even if it’s messy, even if it hurts, I’d rather hear your anger than your silence.
– I always wanted to be mad at you at least once… but I can’t. It fades the moment I see you, or even just think of your smile.
– Then I guess I’ll have to carry the guilt for both of us. But if my smile’s buying me forgiveness… I promise to use it only when it’s honest.
– Emotions aren’t some kind of commercial exchange. You don’t get to smile your way out of everything. Not with me.
– I know. And I’m not trying to buy my way out, I’m just… scared. That one day, even my honesty won’t be enough for you to stay.
– You’re underestimating me. Why would you even think I’d leave? Do you really believe my love is that shallow?
– No. I know it’s not. That’s what terrifies me the most: how deep it runs. Because if I ever mess this up… I won’t just lose you. I’ll lose the best part of myself.
– Smile. I don’t want to stay mad over your gloomy little future scene like that. We’re still here, aren’t we? Still choosing each other. That’s what matters.
– Yeah… we’re still here. And I’d choose you a hundred times, even on the days you don’t choose me back. Especially on those days.
– So if you’d choose me a hundred times… and there are more than two hundred options, I’m not even half your heart?
– Then let me rewrite it, because in my version, there aren’t two hundred options. There’s just one. “And I’d choose her in every chapter, every ending, every lifetime.”
– I’m about to burst into madness because you’re way more romantic than I am. Please stop me!
– Too late. You’re already a beautiful disaster and I wouldn’t change a single word of you.
– So instead of getting mad, maybe I should just write a song using your absurb words.
– Only if you promise to sing it off-key, at midnight, in the kitchen, while I dance around like a fool pretending I deserve you.
– I didn’t quite get what you just said, babe.
– I said: write your song, sing it terribly, and I’ll be there: dancing like an idiot, just happy you’re mine. That clear enough, or do I need to draw a cartoon version?
– It’s like I’m the fool for getting fooled around before you even start dancing like an idiot.
– Exactly. We’re just two beautifully synced disasters: me dancing badly, you falling too early. Honestly? Sounds like love to me.
– My disaster sings quack quack quack… and that means love love love.
He waddles to my door with cappuccino in a giant mug,
He flaps his wings at midnight, shouts “Amore, I’m your loyal dove!”
But baby, we both know he’s just a duck in love.
– She twirls her claws in my cappuccino, says, “This isn’t how it’s done.”
Spills foam on her Guide to Dating Ducks, still calls it “part of the fun.”
She mocks my feathers, pecks my beak, cluck cluck cluck,
And I just stand there smiling… ’cause I’m the duck she loves.
– quack quack quack…
– cluck cluck cluck…
– So you’re not just a smile… you’re my whole laughter, wrapped in feathers.
– And you’re not just a kiss… you’re a full-blown opera in my chest: loud, dramatic, and absolutely worth the encore.
– Promise me this: no matter how cloudy I get, you’ll always be my sun.
– Always, amore. Even if I lose my feathers or forget the words, I’ll still shine for you.
– Quack quack quack, cluck cluck cluck… we wrote a love that stunned the earth!
